The Sweet and Honest Drunk: A Chuck Bass Tale
by BookCaseGirl
Summary: ONESHOT. Different escapades of a drunken Chuck Bass. We all know how he gets when he's had a few too many...


**A/N: **Alright... so, I think I'm just going to do some oneshots for a bit until I can get into more of a groove with "Brightness in the Shades of Gray". Here's one of them. I literally woke up in the middle of the night, after dreaming of Chuck (weird, I know), and came up with this idea. I think its kinda cool and I just like it. Let me know what you think though!

P.S.: I don't own Gossip Girl. You should know this by now, though...

Also, this is unbeta'd. Any mistakes are mine and I take full responsibility for them, ha.

_The Sweet and Honest Drunk: A Chuck Bass Tale_

_**I.**_

_**(Roman Holiday)**_

"Mmm... Hi Blair," he slurred into the phone in a sappy voice. "I just wanted to let you know...I've been thinking about you constantly...Nate's here, by the way. Thought I'd tell him about our little sexcapades. Would you like that?" His tone was now turning menacing and evil, and he was scaring himself.

"No... you wouldn't. So, I won't...Because I really, really, like you Blair," he whispered into the mouthpiece.

"I mean it. Maybe its the way your hair swishes when you walk, or the way when you truly smile, your entire face lights up in delight... god, your eyes, they just sparkle when you smile...." Chuck drawled out drunkenly. He felt a dorky smile cover his lips and finished his speaking.

"Bye-bye Blair-y Boo. Remember that nickname? From your birthday party? I sure do... Ahh... Bye, sweetie," Chuck finished and hung up the phone, geeky smile in place, and then went to lay down.

Moments later, he was overcome with yet another urge to hear her via voicemail again. He picked up his phone and found "Blair", dialing her number with drunken fervor.

"Hi, you have reached Blair Waldorf. Please leave a message at the tone, leaving your name and phone number, and I will get back to you as soon as possible!" her voice got higher at the end and she squealed. A man's voice was heard in the background and Chuck smiled faintly, recalling the memory.

"_Waldorf! Get that perky little ass over here and sit on my lap! Or else..." he was growing happier by the second watching her be so prim and proper as she set up the voicemail for her new cell phone._

"_Or else, what, Bass?"_

_  
He didn't bother to answer her; he just ran and picked her up, twirling her around the room and she broke out into a tumble of giggles. He threw her down on the bed and began his descent on her body._

Before Chuck realized it, there was a beep on the other end of the line.

"Babe... S'me again... I just, I thought maybe you would answer this time.... and I wanted to hear your voice again. Its like sweet, warm milk, you know that? Your voice I mean..." he snickered to himself as he continued to speak. "I know I already said this, but I really, truly, do like you a lot, Waldorf. You're so different from the rest of 'em. You're so... so _princessy_. That's what I adore about you. I'm actually going to hang up now and not call back. I promise," he whispered, fogging up the bottom of the phone with his hot breath. "Goodbye, Blair."

_**II.**_

_**(The Thin Line Between Chuck and Nate)**_

He picked up his phone from its place on his drink napkin and held it for a moment. He simply stared at it, willing her to call him and yell at him. Willing the phone to ring and her beautifully annoying and angry voice to greet him. He just needed to be punished. He wanted to be punished. Chuck wanted her to yell at him and hate him, as long as she didn't have that look on her face anymore.

He made a decision he was in no state to make, but he did it anyway. He called; again. He called her again. These drunken dialings were going to have to stop soon....

Or maybe not, he thought as he heard her voice again. The message still had a man's voice in the background, but it was Nathanial's, and it was so much less cheery than his own had been not that long ago. She sounded dismal as well. He frowned as he listened to her. She was so "society woman."

"Hello, this is the voicemail of Blair Waldorf. Please leave me a detailed message, with your name and telephone number, and I will contact you as soon as possible. Thank you, goodbye." Her voice had a flat and unimportant drawl to it.

"Blair, why must you always be so proper? Can't you just let everything go every now and then? I did it for you... I showed you who I really was... I helped you to become more loose and free. I thought you liked that... I guess not. I still really, really, really li....wait, _love_ you, Ms. Waldorf. And, oh yeah, I am sorry," he murmured sincerely and pressed 'end' on his Blackberry.

_**III.**_

_**(O Brother, Where Bart Thou?)**_

He sighed as the tears fell down his face. He was in her arms; finally, that was all he was able to think. He needed her and he finally let her know that. But she'd known all along. And maybe, on some level, so had he. Chuck visibly swooned as his hand grasped hers.

"I love you, Blair." She shushed him when he said that, but he continued stubbornly. "No. Its the total and complete truth. I swear to you, I am not lying. I have since that day at your birthday party when you were so vulnerable and let me be there..." he trailed off and let a sob pass through him. "I just never told you... I have too much pride, you know. I was too afraid that once I unveiled myself to you, I would become a sap. But I don't care anymore. I loveyouIloveyouIloveyou..." Chuck rambled on and on.

"I was scared. I was scared that you wouldn't like me," he continued. "I was so scared, Blair," he choked out and she stroked his arm, trying to calm him as he got worked up into a fit of crying gasps again. "I was afraid that you would start to see me for what I really was and you would hate me. I was frightened of the fact that you might abhor me because I no longer fit into your plan. Most of all, I was afraid that I would hurt you..." he whispered on her collarbone as they fell back on the comforter of her bed.

"And I wouldn't have been able to live with myself," he breathed and kissed her lightly, memorizing how good she tasted.

_**IV.**_

_**(In the Realm of the Basses)**_

All he could think about was her. It was Blair this and Blair that as he hit up more and more. Her face was pictured in everything and her voice heard everywhere as the Thai masseuse tried to work her magic. Nothing helped him. Nothing saved him from her. Not one thing assisted him in the process of ridding of Blair Waldorf.

There was only one thing left to do. He knew what it was, and though he didn't want to do it in the least, he knew he had to. It was the only way to fix this.

He hopped on the plane, still very fuzzy about every single one of his actions.

When he arrived at the penthouse through the elevator, he found the place void of any life. There was only a little quiet snoring coming from upstairs and the distant sound of a television playing some infomercial.

"Blair?" he questioned out into the darkness and he received no answer. He heard a few sniffles and followed the pathetic mews that were starting to be let out to the living area.

There she was, on the couch. She was curled into a ball and the sobs racking her body seemed uncontrollable. Her head raised and her eyes met his warily.

Chuck was at her side in an instant; he had his arms around her and didn't care that he smelled like an assortment of drugs and alcohol.

"Look what I've done..." he whispered into her ear. "I'm such an ass," he murmured as he kissed her face gratefully. "Shh... sweetheart, just relax. Calm down... I'm here now. I swear I won't hurt you any longer. I swear to you..." Chuck's breath skittered out of his mouth and onto the skin of her flannel-clad shoulder. "I love you. I swear, Blair. I mean it..."

_**V.**_

_**(Gone With the Will)**_

"Blair, please. Give me a chance, here," he begged her, his voice a quiet shell of its normal tone.

"Leave, Chuck," she whispered and he got back into the elevator. Her flowers hit his foot as he fell down onto the carpeting of the car. He broke out into a few estranged sobs and then stopped.

He got home and drank all the scotch he could find.

Then he did it again. Oops, was all he was able to think as he picked up his phone. He reconsidered, though, as he turned it on.

He knew that maybe a drunk message wouldn't be the best now. Maybe he should just go there himself. There was a better chance if it was in person. He just needed to be honest, not that that was ever a problem with him when he was near her.

Chuck arrived back at her home and stood in the doorway of her elevator. This time, though, he didn't wait for her to grace him with her presence. He strode in and found her on the sofa.

She was crying again and he broke. He would be utterly honest with her, that much was certain.

"Blair, I love you. I want you to be my wife..." He murmured and watched as her face lit up slightly. "Someday, though. Please understand this. I do love you. I know I never say it when I'm sober, I know that you may not believe me when I'm not, but just please, please believe that I'm being honest with you now."

"I do," she sobbed into his shoulder as his arms enveloped her in a warm embrace.

"Good," he said. The word was so simple. But it conveyed it all, even in his drunken stupor.

**A/N: **Hope it was good... I hope you liked it, too. Well, yeah, thanks, bye!


End file.
